Five Minutes
by studentnumber24601
Summary: Rated only for the slash, despite being ridiculously fluffy. Snitch is in the Refuge, on his birthday. And he's bored.


[disclaimer: Disney's, not mine. Duh.]

**__**

Five Minutes

Snitch sighed. It was his birthday, but no one knew. And if people _had_ known, they wouldn't have cared–and even if they had _cared,_ they couldn't have done anything about it. Such was life in the refuge. He _hated_ life in the Refuge.

Of course, that was the point. But still. It was his _birthday._

He paced around the tiny room angrily, pausing only to kick one of the walls. He let out a string of curse words at the pain in his foot, then slumped back on to his bed.

Solitary confinement–or the Refuge's version of it–was the worst thing _ever._ Maybe not as bad as if it was _real_ solitary in a _real_ jail, since he still got to eat with everyone else, and would have been allowed visitors if anyone had actually come to visit him, but still. He was bored. On his _birthday._

Footsteps clamored up the hall, though he didn't pay attention until they stopped in front of his cell. He glanced out through the barred door. "Visitor day," said Darrol shortly. Darrol had been brought in to replace Snyder; he wasn't as strict and wasn't embezzling anything as far as anyone knew, but he would only put up with so much.

Snitch really shouldn't have tried to steal his pocket watch, he reflected, as Darrol fit a key to the lock. "Five minutes," he said, and stepped out of the way.

Snitch's eyes went wide as the familiar smiling face stepped into view. _"Skittery?"_ he asked, as Skitts stepped into the cell. It banged shut behind him and he winced; like Snitch, he knew what the Refuge could be like, and the thought of being locked in a cell–even if they were supposed to let him out in five minutes–was unpleasant. But he bit it back and grinned.

"Hey, Snitch," he said nonchalantly.

"You came to visit me!" Snitch said excitedly, launching himself off of his bed and at his best friend, his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his back and nearly knocking him over. Skittery made a slight _oof_ noise and caught himself, then returned the embrace. "Sorry," Snitch apologized, "I'm just so _bored_ in here."

"Nothing to steal?"

"Aw, shut up." But he couldn't stop smiling.

"Hey," Skittery said after a moment of silence. "It's your birthday, ain't it?"

"Yeah. Some way to celebrate it." Snitch sighed, and Skittery ruffled his hair fondly.

"I tried to bring you a present, but they wouldn't let me. Checked my pockets before I came in."

"It's nice of you anyway."

"Too bad, though. I mean, I managed to get my hands on some sweets, just for you, 'cause I know you love 'em." He paused, then nudged Snitch back towards the bed. They sat side by side, and he leant in and whispered conspiratorially, "I think I found a way to get you one, though."

"How's that?" Snitch asked, curious. He thought he knew every trick about sneaking things in and out of the refuge, given the number of times he'd been in and out himself. This time he'd been caught picking some guy's pocket; they wouldn't have caught him if it wasn't for the dam tree root. Who expected a tree root to come out of nowhere in the middle of New York Freaking City? He'd caught a foot on it and fallen, and by the time he got his footing back, someone had grabbed his shirt and it was all over And here he was, for three months Only one left now, but still. That was two months of his life he'd never get back. 

He'd have groaned in frustration, but Skittery had come to visit. That was worth something, especially since he knew that there were half a dozen guys–and girls–who'd probably start hitting on Skitts as soon as he was out of the picture. It had happened before, and it really wasn't fair of him to ask Skitts to wait for three months. It was a long time, a quarter of a year, and who wanted to be alone for that long? Relationships almost never lasted when one side was in the Refuge.

"Well," Skittery said, interrupting his train of thought. He glanced out of the bars that made up the door and didn't see anyone, so he ducked in closer to Snitch for just a second and kissed him. Snitch was startled, usually Skittery wasn't so demonstrative, but realized a second later what was going on. He opened his mouth a little bit and Skittery's tongue greeted his own, tracing the insides of his teeth and the roof of his mouth–it was hard not to giggle, that _tickled–_and finally, Skittery pushed in a rapidly dissolving piece of lemon flavored candy.

He might have tried to move away, then, with his mission accomplished, but Snitch had other ideas, and a minute later they were still kissing. It was only the knowledge that they didn't have much time, and that they _did_ want to talk, that pulled them apart.

"So how's everyone?" Snitch asked finally, crunching the last remnants of the candy.

"Jack's okay, he an' Sarah broke up. Race actually won a bet last week."

"And Mush and Blink?" Snitch asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. _Those_ were the two who he was convinced had their eyes on Skittery; he knew they were boy-kissers, like him, and well, who _wouldn't_ want Skittery? 

__

"Finally got together," Skittery said, rolling his eyes a little. "Took 'em long enough."

"So they ain't" Snitch trailed off, realizing how jealous he sounded Well, how jealous he actually _was._ "I mean, you and they ain't"

"'Course not," Skitter said, almost offended. "I been waiting for you."

"You have?" Snitch breathed, barely able to believe it. "I I wanted to ask you to, but It didn't seem _fair"_

"What's fair got to do with it?" Skittery answered, gently putting a hand over Snitch's. "I love you. Three months ain't so bad. Only one to go, right?"

"Right."

Snitch smiled and looked over into Skittery's eyes.

Darrol found them kissing when he came back a minute later, and was good enough to give them an extra minute. After all, it _was_ Snitch's birthday.

[AN: Hee. I like Refuge romances a bit too much. :::grin::: Anyway, Snitch/Skitts isn't really my thing, but poor Lute is dying and needed to be revived, and since I got to reference Mush/Blink in the background, all is well. Yes, I am obsessed with Mush and Blink being slashy. If they didn't want me to be, they'd keep their hands off each other for five seconds, is my feeling

Anyway. Progress report for other stories, 'cause I'm sure you care so much. My Race!muse seems to have died, so Insomnia and the other, fluffier, Race story I'd been working on? Stalled in progress. Grrrr. (Hey, someone post a good Race!fic to get me back in the mood! That might work ;) However, Blink!muse is kind of a jerk, and an attention whore, and as such there's a work-in-progress that's, well, in progress. More stuff form the Cigarettes universe, because I'm tragically obsessed with my own creations. 

Hopefully more soon, since my show is over and school has _almost_ stopped kicking my ass.

-24601] 


End file.
